Rainbow Without Colors
by season's call
Summary: He prays to the moon, to the sky, to the wind to express his felings to her. The rain brings her reply. He waits for the rain to go away, he waits for the sun and the rainbow. Even though...in the end,... it's a rainbow without colors.


Everyone loves an autumn afternoon sky.

Some love it because of the clouds that float high above just like cotton balls, changing their forms every moment. You can see flowers; you can see trees, ships and smoke, even mythological creatures battling, all in that sky, among those clouds. It's like a very wide canvas stretched in front of the world, just waiting to be drawn with the things you and your subconscious mind would love to see.

All you have to do is to lie down facing this canvas and let your heart fly to the sky. These people enjoy the afternoon, alone, yet they are not that as they all become one once they stand under the blue sky. They share each other's company, without knowing the existence of each other, through the blue canopy overhead.

Again, some love it as gentle breeze from the south blows, ruffles your hair that makes your loved one giggle. They bless you with their soothing touch; fingers slowly crawling through your hair, settling them again to uniformity. They stand under the same sky; share each other's warmth, dreams and comfort. They are not lonely, they have each other. The wide sky just watches them, enjoying every moment of their togetherness. But they don't know the sky, they don't need the sky; love gives them company, hope and happiness.

They feel the sky only when they are not with their partner; as they plead to the air, to the sky, to the moon in those times, to take their words to their beloved.

The sky glows with their happiness, the sky cries in their sorrow.

It is the sky that knows both the groups' secrets, yet it reveals none.

All it does is to wait, for you, to shed tears when you're sad, to hear your cheerful yells when you're happy, and to share your silence when you're lonely.

I used to belong to the first group, until the day I met my destiny and became a part of the latter group.

_For the rest of my life._

... ...

... ...

When I was in the athletics club, I used to think, why do I run? In fact the question was, why do people run?

As a child, I always wanted to gather my answers by exploring, by myself.

So, I watched the local paper-boy running at the earliest hours of morning to deliver newspapers from door to door. For him, it was all about delivering in time.

I watched the kids from the school, chirping and running towards home, holding each other's hands, determined and eager to go home before others.

I saw men in black suit, rushing to the train, to tall buildings; I noticed women holding purses entering airports; teenagers running after buses; police dashing towards places.

They were all running. Running without thinking. Without stopping even for one moment.

_Why?_

I conclude; it's all about time. Time waits for none, so they all have to run, to make it in time. Otherwise, someone else will snatch their chance.

But I didn't realize how precious time really is...until that day.

That day, I watched her from a distance. I took my paces towards her, knowing that this is the time; I waited the whole year for this time to come. I kept my focus on her as she kept fidgeting her graduation robe. I kept walking.

And then he came, out of blue, running towards her from behind. He took her hand and she smiled.

A smile, that pierced through my heart and left me for eternal bleeding.

I was still walking, at that time. And when my feet stopped, I realized something.

_You can't make it in time walking; you have to run for that._

So, that's why people run.

It is indeed all about time. It waits for none. If you are delayed, someone will snatch it from you.

I guess I learnt that, but paying a good hell price.

... ...

... ...

My brother always had loved to say, I was such a kid, even though I was at the end of my teenage. He used to say, I could never become something great, as I had never learnt how to claim my rights, how to express my thoughts with crystal clarity. Instead, I always tried to be happy for others, even though that their decision ended up hurting me.

He'd always been my hero, so I never resented his words; he was my playmate, my guide, philosopher and my only best friend.

Oh, yeah, I had another best friend.

Some used to wonder how did we two end up being so good as friends. But when it comes to him, things were always mysterious, and they would only get cloudier when you dip down too deep. His mind was like a pool, a very deep one with black water. Your eyes could never fathom what those brilliant sparkly orbs intended to mean. I knew he never opened up his veil, the one that separated his true self from the daylight.

Not even to me.

So, that day, the day he came to me, in the practice room, to reveal a secret that he had been keeping for so long from everyone.

To share with me. Only... with me.

I was happy. Yes, I truly was.

Ten minutes later, when he left the room, I was leaning against the door. His words kept repeating in my head.

_There's been a hole in my heart, that has been filled with a blooming flower._

_The flower of love._

As I turned the doorknob to let my self out from the confines of SEISO, I made up my mind.

The decision was made.

To let the flower grow, instead of the premature bud in my heart that had only started to spread its petals.

I mean, that's the law of the nature, isn't it?

_Sorry, bro, you were right, I'm indeed such a jerk, who can't voice out his feelings._

_And, yes, you were right. I'm indeed a child, that's why I shouldn't be doing things that I'm not sure myself._

_After all, children shouldn't be playing with fire, should they, bro?_

... ... ... ...

She was looking down shyly when they brought her in there. Her beautiful red locks tied up on a neat bun; pinned on the sides of her head, the hairpins were presenting brightest blue sparkles, visible even from this far.

But, no,...The brightest sparkle I saw that day was in the eyes of the man, who needed not to yell to let out the heavenly happiness, the rewarding peace he was feeling to be in that position with her.

Well,...I say,... _some lucky guy._

The man with a pendant of a cross around his neck took their hands...and pronounced the question.

I saw her lips moving, ..slowly. So..slowly.

Two words.

Two words, that made all the differences.

Two words, that made her eternally his.

And two words, that silenced my three words speech for her... for good.

... ...

... ...

As the dance floor came alive with music and dancing couples. There, under those cheers, laughters, giggles and snap-flashes, the tears of a broken heart also sank, unnoticed as they would be for the rest of the time.

Yet, as he smiled even through the ache inside and started walking for the door to get away from this laughing crowd. He just wanted to be anywhere but here.

_Maybe, that's how it's supposed to be._

_I guess, a trumpet's never meant for a serenade._

... ...

... ...

If you're one of those who visit the Wind Park by the sea from time to time, then a young man must've definitely caught your eyes. Under the blue sky, on the shiny mowed grass of that park, he is often seen lying, facing the sky upward. Passers-by are sometimes bestowed with his miraculous performance with the trumpet in his hand. But most of the time, he just keeps staring, to a far place, his eyes being so mystical at that time that it's hard to realize what he's looking at.

_Or whether he's looking at anything at all._

Nobody talks to him, neither does he. Except the wind from the sea.

Sometimes at night, when he cries, the wind comes, stealthily, to comfort him, caressing his lime- green hair.

The young man feels grateful.

_The wind indeed kept on being his friend,...until the end._

So, with this only friend left for him, he waits, for the clouds of his life to go away and ...and...

No,...Not, for the sun to shine once again.

But atleast, he still hopes for a rainbow, to bring a little color back.

Some ask, what if the rain washed all the colors away? Would that still be rainbow?

The young man smiles.

A smile, that fails to give his eyes the shine they used to give.

A smile that answers all the questions.

He doesn't mind being happy with rainbow...

Rainbow... without colors.


End file.
